


Platonic

by placidings



Category: Noli Me Tangere & Related Works - José Rizal
Genre: M/M, anyway, criticism is welcome in this house, i was feeling like shit so i took my anger out on Gani, implied Basi/Juli, or rather this is me trying to remember how to write in first person, this was taken from a certain thing that happened in rp, this was to practice getting inside his head, wrote and edited this in one night so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:02:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11460372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/placidings/pseuds/placidings
Summary: Platonic: the absence of romantic and/or sexual attraction and/or intent. Was that what it meant? I don't know. I forgot, I think.





	Platonic

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to the [Basilio](https://twitter.com/basilYOOOO) to my [Isagani](https://twitter.com/makata__) in the world of twitter rp, Hannah. That one angsty night brought this on, thanks! <3

Platonic—I think I forgot what that word meant. 

I lost it—I lost it sometime after Basilio's lips met mine; I dropped it, spilled it down my shirt and over his fingers when he began grasping at it desperately, greedily; I think it got crushed when his back met the wall and his body crashed against mine in a collision of a thick heat and seemingly mutual desire. I think the word had something to do with being friends—as in, a relationship without the romantic and/or sexual attraction and/or intent –but if the kiss that tread lightly on the spot on his neck where his pulse throbbed, the hands cradling his hips, the groans and moans stifled by lips, the pulse that beat like a thousand drums were anything to go by, I'd say the word platonic isn't appropriate in this context. It would be downright blasphemous. 

A relationship without the romantic and/or sexual attraction and/or intent. Was that what it meant? I don't know, I forgot, I think. 

Platonic—the word fades from my memory with every step closer to his home—my home, him. It is a wisp of smoke through my fingers. It is one with the smoke of the flames that burn in the pit of my chest; ignited by a force I can't comprehend—or rather, choose to not comprehend. He saw the light. He knew; I was sure. He knew. I could see it in the deep void of his eyes when he stares back at me, when he looks at me, when he smiles at me, when he laughs with me—at me. Something's changed; I'd be a fool to ignore it. Something's changed, I can see it in the way he avoids my gaze as he opens the door. I try not to gawk at the shirt that he wore. My shirt. It was my shirt. 

The word platonic disappears in the fire. It is swallowed by the smoke of this burning desire. It crumbles into ashes the moment the words that I long to hear drips down his lips like honey. He kisses me, I kiss him, I get a taste; it is bittersweet. I taste the uncertainty that lingered on his tongue. I taste the remnants of his love that is now gone, and now her name; her, his reason, is in my system, coursing through my bloodstream.   
His pain is numbing. My pain is debilitating.

Platonic—I remember what that word meant. 

He reminds me of its painful definition: he pushes me off, and I see guilt. Fear. Confusion. 

_"I don't want you to be a rebound, Gani!"_

Platonic—friendship. At this moment, we had to be platonic. We were way past it, but it feels as if this is all we'll ever be. Here is where we'll stay. 

Platonic—it's me and him. 

(Even when the ghost of his kiss haunts my lips.)

**Author's Note:**

> (Fun fact: we were doing Figures of Speech and Poetry in Creative Writing. That and the rp thing just... collided and, well. Here we are.) 
> 
> (Fun fact #2: I uploaded this on impulse, I guess? Not beta-read. I'm fully liable for my mistakes. Heh.)


End file.
